


Zep

by HigherMagic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bestiality, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 13:54:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1187736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HigherMagic/pseuds/HigherMagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam get a hunting dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to apologize, even if I'm not sure why. For Steffie, because I love her and she deserves nice things. I’ll see you for that date in Hell, sweetheart.

> "So…you bought a dog."

"Yep."

"A pet dog."

"A _hunting_ dog.”

Dean blinked, caught between the slightly smug grin on Sam’s face and the dark, attentive eyes of the massive animal Sam had decided to get into his head to buy. It wasn’t the biggest dog Dean had ever seen, but it was enough that if it started growling it would probably but the fear of God into a man. If Dean knew more about dog breeds he’d be able to identify it as some kind of wolfdog mix.

"Why do we need a hunting dog?" Dean asked, his throat dry, voice rough. He wasn’t sure if he was pissed or simply too startled to react yet.

"Think about it, Dean," Sam said, kneeling down and gathering up the leash in his hand. He pet the big dog’s head, grinning at the pleased rumble and the little tail wag he received for it. "We’re not as fast as half the things we hunt, and dogs have a much better sense of smell and night vision than we do. We can train it to sniff out demons or vamps or whatever we need."

Dean licked his lips, looking back at the dog’s golden eyes. Just as their eyes met the dog yipped, tail wagging a little harder. The dog fought its way out of Sam’s pseudo hug and right up to Dean, pushing his head against Dean’s thigh, tail wagging fiercely.

Sam grinned as Dean sputtered, trying to keep his balance and shoving back until the dog relented and started sniffing at Dean’s shoes. “I think he likes you.”

Dean swallowed. Fuck. “Yeah, fine, but you’re taking care of him – I am _not_ putting dog shit in baggies, you got me? Training, feeding – he’s all yours,” Dean replied with a dismissive gesture, shaking his head. “And he’s not going in the damn car until we get something to cover it!”

He turned away, determined to storm off after his final order, only to realize as he was half-way through the library and on the way to his room, that the dog had followed him. He could hear the tinkle of the leash dragging behind him, and when he turned around he let out a startled sound as he found that the dog was right on his heels. He glared at the animal, and received a handlick for his trouble.

"Jesus Christ," Dean growled, rubbing a hand over his face. Of course this was his life. He sighed, looking down at the panting animal with his lolling tongue and bright eyes, and sighed again. "Fine. Come on. If you’re gonna be a hunting dog you’re gonna start training, just like the rest of us."

He took up the leash, but after a moment thought better of it and unhooked it, letting it drop on one of the nearby tables. The dog didn’t wander off, merely stared patiently at Dean as though waiting for him to get a move on.

Dean sighed, rolling his eyes upwards. This couldn’t be his life.

***

Two weeks later and Dean had gotten two shadows. The dog – Dean had eventually decided on the name ‘Zep’, despite Sam’s protests, and it was the only thing the dog really wanted to respond to. Zep proved to be a fast learner – easily able to find a little bag of sulfur that Sam would hide across the bunker, and sometimes he’d drive out to one of the many fields surrounding the place and Dean would go with Zep to hunt it down.

They couldn’t exactly practice fighting with Zep, but Sam set up a padded mess of vaguely-human shaped pillows and blankets and they taught Zep to understand commands like ‘Attack’ and ‘Go’ and ‘Easy’, taught him when to sniff out a site or act sweet and comforting (for victims). Apparently his breed were naturally suspicious of strangers, so that worked in their favor. They taught him to understand what a gun was and fired them around him until his ears barely twitched at the sound of even their heavy sawed-offs.

The big lug was growing on Dean, he’d admit – even if he’d rather steal one of the beat-up abandoned cars in the nearest town and bring it back to the bunker in case they ever had to drive the dog anywhere, still unwilling to let the animal inside Baby.

Zep had definitely bonded well with both of them, but Dean couldn’t ignore the fact that Zep chose his door to sleep in front of like some kind of living draft blocker. Zep came easily to Sam and never disobeyed either of them, but unless he was training or Sam had called him, Zep was glued to Dean’s side. He never wandered or ran off unless ordered to, and Dean’s calf was constantly being warmed by the animal walking next to him, his feet from Zep laying over them while he sat and researched.

Eventually Dean just stopped closing his door to keep Zep out, instead allowing the animal to sleep in his room if he so chose. He was uncomfortable around dogs (for damn good reason in his opinion) but Zep had proven to be a trustworthy and obedient companion. Dean didn’t feel like he would get his throat ripped out in the middle of the night, at least.

Zep made it perfectly clear, though, that while he had waited patiently for Dean to let him into his room; now that he was in he wasn’t going to be sleeping on the floor anymore. Dean contemplated buying a dog bed but honestly the bunker tended to run cold and having the giant animal sleeping next to him was doing wonders for keeping him warm at night, and Zep didn’t shed too much.

***

Dean woke up warm and comfortable, his lips tacky and mouth sticky from sleeping with his mouth open. He shifted his weight, groaning softly, rolling onto his stomach and abruptly aware of his morning wood as he found a source of friction in his mattress.

He rolled his hips lazily, still half-asleep and grabbing frantically at the remnants of a dream full of a sexy little thing pinned under him and a big bear of a man behind and on top of him. One hand slid down to cup himself through his underwear, thumb lazily thumbing at the slit of his cock as he gripped himself and thrust forward into his hand.

"Mm, _fuck_ ,” he growled, dipping his hand under the waistband of his underwear and wrapping his fingers tight around his precome-slick cockhead, spreading it around his shaft as he fucked forward. The angle sucked and, as Dean woke up more fully, the frustration of cruelly denied orgasm forced him to roll onto his back and shove his underwear down to his knees so that he could get a good grip.

He held his eyes closed, mouth slack, head tilted back as he started to stroke himself properly, other hand dipping down to gently squeeze his balls and push his fingertips just behind like he’d learned felt fucking _awesome_.

He groaned softly, spreading his legs out a little more, and came into contact with fur. Still caught up in his fantasy, Dean frowned, his brain not quite putting together the sensation with his dream, before his eyes shot open and he saw Zep looking at him, intelligent eyes looking between the movement of Dean’s hand and the Hunter’s face. His nostrils flared out, his tail wagging a little. He almost looked impatient, ears cocked forward and eager.

"Fuck," Dean growled, his hand tightening around his cock. This was wrong – fuck, this was messed up. But he knew he was too far-gone to stop now, and he couldn’t exactly run down the hall to the shower without possibly running into Sam.

Zep whined, licking his maw, and rested a paw on Dean’s chest. His warm breath skated over the bare skin of Dean’s arm and his neck and Dean bit his lip, shifting his weight a little, and let his fingers tease at his hole to draw out a soft, shaky moan.

Zep licked his jaws again, apparently satisfied, settling back down to keep listening.

Fuck, this could not be his life.

Dean groaned softly, twisting his hand at the head of his cock and doing his best to ignore the weight of Zep’s paw on his chest. His breath was already coming shorter, though, and his thighs were twitching, stomach tense with pending orgasm. He couldn’t hold back the sounds he made – sounds that Zep’s ears twitched towards, attentive.

He was close, arching up in little jerks as his hand kept moving, dry fingertips running up and down his perineum, putting pressure when he felt his breath getting tight and shaky, eyes squeezing tightly shut, hand twisting at the head of his cock and _fuck_ – _fuck_ , he was coming, moaning loudly as he felt his body seize up and release like a snapped wire.

He stroked himself through it, lazy pulls on his leaking cock to add that little knife-edge of aftershock that he always liked, gazing dazedly at the ceiling, before a hot, wet sensation abruptly brought him back.

Zep had pushed himself up onto his forelegs and was now casually sniffing at the mess Dean had made, tail wagging wildly. Slowly, overcome with some morbid, curious desire, Dean turns his messy hand towards the dog and breathed a soft curse as Zep’s long tongue began to lap his come from his fingers. When he was done and Dean moved his hand away, Zep turned his attention to the stain on Dean’s shirt, licking up all the droplets that clung to Dean’s skin in what little bit was exposed and the shirt until he was all clean.

"Fuck," Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his clean hand. He moaned softly when, done with cleaning, Zep turned his attention to Dean’s spent cock, apparently enthralled with the taste of musk and sweat clinging to Dean’s skin. The long drags of his tongue across Dean’s cock sent more of those knife-edge shocks through Dean’s system, making his toes twitch and his breath catch.

It was wrong. So wrong.

It was _good_.

This could not be his life.

***

Nothing changed outside of that room. Zep still carried out orders perfectly, was well-trained and obedient and a damn good hunting dog, all things considered. But Dean felt an itch under his skin – a wrongness and shame he couldn’t stifle every time he got a glimpse of the dog’s tongue.

He wanted more.

He wanted to know if, maybe, he could convince Zep to put that tongue to other uses.

He’d never been able to find out for himself what it felt like to have a man draped on top of him, wrapped up in sex and musk and _lie there and take it, pretty little bitch_ , too busy or too ashamed to seek out and fulfil those desires he had.

But now.

He whistled lowly, calling Zep to him, and brushed his fingers over the top of the dog’s head. “Come on, Zep, bed time,” he said. The dog wagged his tail at the sound of Dean’s voice, barking softly, once. He knew when the lights went out and Sam was asleep, he had to be quiet. Dean didn’t want Sam waking up and possibly overhearing anything.

He stripped out of his clothes quickly, before he could chicken out. Zep gave them a cursory sniff, tail wagging once, before his golden eyes fixed on Dean again and he sat down, ears cocked forward. Zep always had this way of looking expectant, like he’d already seen this coming and was just waiting for Dean to catch up.

It didn’t settle any of the nerves.  

Zep jumped up onto the bed when Dean kneeled down, taking a deep breath and reaching out to pet across the darker fur along Zep’s face and neck. The dog whuffed softly, nosing at Dean’s hand, tail wagging fiercely. His warm breath rose goose bumps on Dean’s skin, and he could feel his nipples getting stiff as the cool air of the room met the dog’s heat, making him shiver.

"Good boy," he murmured, voice shaky, and let the dog’s head drop. He turned around so he was sitting and reached out to his bedside table, rooting around for the lube. After an incredibly awkward conversation with the sex shop girl, he’d managed to get a lubricant that was safe if ‘accidentally’ ingested by animals, and didn’t smell like the inside of a cheap condom.

Breathing out, he squirted a little drop on the top of his fingertips, sniffing at it cautiously. It didn’t smell _bad_ exactly, but it was _meant_ to smell like vanilla and it certainly didn’t smell like that either. Shrugging, Dean licked at the drop. The taste wasn’t bad, either.

Zep gave a questioning nip at Dean’s arm, wriggling his way to Dean’s side, forelegs flopping over the edge of the bed at the side.

Dean grinned at him. “Wanna taste, buddy?” he asked, reaching out with a new little dollop of lubricant. Zep sniffed at it, nosing at Dean’s palm once before his long, thick tongue licked at Dean’s fingers. He was apparently happy with it, because he didn’t leave it and his tail was wagging happily – although Dean suspected Zep would eat anything Dean fed to him by hand, the spoiled brat.

More confident now, Dean squirted more of the lube onto his fingers and moved so that he could lay down. Zep moved to make room for him, standing while he waited for the Hunter to get comfortable, his golden eyes bright.

Dean took a deep breath, stealing himself, and let his slick fingers reach down and drag across his hole. The sensation already had him relaxing, warm pleasure curling low in his gut as he breathed out and began to finally relax. It was easy, like this, not to get caught up in what his brain was saying, and instead focus on the simple demands of his body – the desire to push his finger inside, to slick himself up, search for that spot on the inside that made him hear fucking choirs singing.

Dean spread his legs out a little more, making sure to smear as much of the lube as he could between his thighs, before he rolled over onto his hands and knees. “Okay, buddy,” he said tightly, hoping that this would actually work – and that it would feel as good as he’d imagined. “Go ahead.”

Zep barked, once, before Dean felt his dry nose at his hole, sniffing out the lube, and he began to lick.

Dean fisted his hands in the sheets, forehead dropping down onto his forearm as he cursed lowly against his skin. Fuck. _Fuck_. It was nothing like Dean had expected – it was so much _better_. The dog had no qualms about licking all over Dean, and his thick, powerful tongue felt fucking amazing every time it dipped inside his barely-stretched hole, teasing at the fullness.

"Oh God, oh _God_ ,” Dean gasped, spreading his legs out a little wider to make room for the big dog. “That’s – good boy, Zep, keep going, _fuck_.” His body spasmed, cock hanging hard and heavy between his legs, when Zep licked one long stripe over his hole. It felt like Dean’s breath was being ripped from his lungs with every inhale.

He’d never known it could be this good – his fingers felt awesome, but somehow the sensation of warm breath and a thick tongue just made it a thousand times better. Dean’s body shuddered, his shoulders tight and tense from holding his weight up, thighs shaking – and then Zep stopped.

Dean let out a whine to rival the animal’s, fingers working hurriedly at the lube to put more on for Zep to lick, sure that he’d stopped because he ran out, but he didn’t have time to before the animal’s weight was suddenly on top of him, sixty pounds of dog pushing him down onto the bed.

He cursed, his heart hammering, and tried to shove Zep off only to get a nip to his shoulder for his trouble. He abruptly froze – Zep was trained to keep attacking if someone was trying to fight back. Dean didn’t know if he’d know the difference now, but he wasn’t going to find out the hard way. He could feel the tip of Zep’s cock nudging between his thighs and, hurrying, he reached back to wrap his hand around it, still slick with lube, so that Zep might think he’d caught Dean and not keep trying to fuck into his not-nearly-stretched-enough hole.

Zep let out his low, rumbling growl that Dean felt right against his back, and he shivered as the dog started to jerk his hips to get his cock further into Dean’s hand. Dean tightened his hand around the dog’s cock, gritting his teeth against the heavy, uncomfortable weight as Zep whined softly and thrust as deep as he could get.

Zep’s cock rubbed against Dean’s own and Dean moaned softly at the sensations, desperate for it after not being touched. He drove his hand back, simulating sex for the dog who let out a happy yip and licked at the nape of Dean’s neck. His claws scraped down Dean’s sides but at least he wasn’t trying to mount him properly anymore, so Dean counted himself lucky for small mercies.

Happy with having caught his bitch, Zep started to fuck his hand in earnest, low growls and whuffs falling from the dog as he chased his orgasm selfishly, precome slicking Dean’s fist enough that the going was easy.

Dean’s breath caught when he felt the base of Zep’s knot start to flare up, Zep’s thrusts becoming shallower and rougher the closer he got. Fuck, he’d forgotten about the knot – he was even more thankful, now, that he hadn’t let Zep try harder to mount him. No way he would have been able to handle a knotting safely yet.

He let his fist wrap tight around the dog’s knot, squeezing tight as Zep nipped at the back of his neck and came with a low growl. His warm come dripped down over Dean’s fist and onto the bed sheets, creating a huge stain, his thrusts making it spill all over the front of Dean’s thighs and his chest as well in what felt like a never-ending stream of come.

Dean shook at the thought of that all being inside him, plugged up by a knot, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He let go of Zep, the dog letting out a confused yip but still draping himself over Dean’s back, and the Hunter took his cock in hand, stroking himself with his come-slick fingers wrapped tight around his cock. His shoulders burned from holding both his weight and the dog’s, and his gut twisted with some sort of sick shame and arousal, but the feeling of Zep’s warm come dripping down his thighs and the dog’s warm breath on the back of his neck was enough to get Dean to the edge, twisting his hand at the head of his cock and thumbing through the slit until he came with a choked groan, adding to the mess.

Zep huffed, apparently satisfied when Dean went boneless underneath him, and pushed himself off of Dean’s body. The Hunter rolled onto his side, mindful of the giant mess they’d made in the middle of the bed, but couldn’t stop himself grinning tiredly when Zep immediately began to lick it up.

With his clean hand, he reached out and stroked the dog’s big, soft ears. “Good boy.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted a small continuation.

"Mm, fuck,  _fuck_  -.”

Dean hissed, easing the inflated knotting dildo out of himself as he collapsed onto the bed. His whole body was still shivery, post-orgasm - and each little tug of the dildo on his stretch rim and clenching insides sent another lightning-strike through him, far too sensitive to be pleasurable.

With Zep, he’d have to make sure he came right towards the end.

 

***

 

The thought sent another shudder through him - he was actually considering this. Fucking his dog. Well, shit, there was no fighting the molten-hot desire that coursed through him and spread out from behind his ribs every time he thought about it.

He carefully righted himself, hissing at the pain from his abused ass, and tugged his pants back up around his waist. He needed to clean this thing off, then probably have a nap.

Then, maybe.

Zep was in his room when he came back from his shower, and Dean threw him a happy smile. “Hey, boy,” he said, pushing the clean dildo into his bedside cabinet and petting the dog’s head as Zep pushed his nose against Dean’s thigh. His tail was wagging and he was whining, recognizing the scent of the animal-safe lube Dean had used on himself.

Dean shook his head. “No,” he said, sternly. There was no way in Hell his ass was going to take that kind of pounding twice in one day. “Up.”

Zep jumped up onto the bed, curling up quickly and settling down with a quiet huff, his back to Dean. Dean had to laugh, because it was like Zep was giving him the cold shoulder for refusing him sex.

"Idiot," he said affectionately, before he turned around and flicked off the light so that he could catch some sleep.

When he woke, Zep was whining again, his nose pressed up against Dean’s ass. Dean groaned, shifting in place as he felt the dog nosing his boxers, breath hot and moist against his sore ass, and when he turned to look over his shoulder he could see Zep’s tail wagging wildly, his pink cock already coming out of his sheath.

"Jeez," Dean growled, pushing himself upright. "Impatient little shit."

Zep yipped, and licks Dean’s face.

"Gross." Dean grinned anyway, rubbing the dog’s soft ears as he reached for the lube he’d kept close by, and shoved Zep away so that he could roll onto his back and prepare himself.

When Zep smelled the lube, his cock slid out further, associating that scent with one of a bitch he could fuck. Dean groaned softly at the thought of getting that cock, his  _knot_ , inside of him. It’d feel so much better than the dildo, of that he was certain, able to feel Zep’s heavy weight and heat covering him, teeth lightly nipping at Dean’s neck, pumping deep into his ass.

 _Fuck_. Dean forced himself not to rush, and when he was ready he quickly stripped off and rolled onto his hands and knees.

"C’mon, boy," he said, arching his hips up as Zep nosed and licked curiously at his asshole, a low bark coming out at the taste. "Yeah, Zep, come on, boy - wanna fuck me?"

It was ridiculous, of course, because the dog couldn’t understand him, but that didn’t stop Zep from choosing that precise moment to mount his bitch, heavy weight flopping down on Dean’s back and hips jerking against Dean’s ass in an attempt to fuck his cock into his pinned bitch.

Dean cursed, reaching back with one hand so that he could help the process along, carefully placing the head of Zep’s cock against his hole. With a short, jabbing thrust it was in, and then it was  _all_ the way in. 

Dean shivered, sweat prickling out along his shoulders at the sudden, deep fucking he was getting. Zep let out a happy grunting sound, opening his mouth wide and gentle across the back of Dean’s neck, his front claws scrabbling at Dean’s sides and leaving little red-hot lines of sensation down his skin.

"Fuck," Dean growled, biting his knuckles as Zep fucked him, hard enough that he was in real danger of losing his balance and sprawling all over himself in the sheets.

Zep yipped, his thrusts shuddering and quickening, and Dean took in a deep breath at the first swell of his knot. Unlike when Dean had done it himself, Zep didn’t ease the knot in, but fucked and fucked, tugging on Dean’s aching rim until Dean whined, wincing at the sting, and then it was  _in_ , and Zep couldn’t pull out anymore. The dog rested his muzzle, limp and drooling, on Dean’s shoulder as he rutted inside of his bitch, and Dean didn’t feel anything but the sudden and intense stretch until he felt Zep start to come, seed leaking out around the knot and trickling down Dean’s thighs.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Dean hissed, too turned on to worry about waiting as he shoved his free hand under himself to grab his cock. Fuck, he felt so full, used and dirty with fucking  _dog come_ leaking out of him, Zep still giving little aborted twitches of his hips every time Dean clenched up around him.

When Zep started to turn around, his claws biting and his weight and heat suddenly gone from Dean, the tug of the knot was enough to send Dean, screaming, over the edge, coming with a hard, muffled cry into his hand as he spilled over the sheets. The feeling of the knot was a thousand times bigger and better, clenching down tight around it so that the come stopped leaking out and Dean felt like he was going to split in half.

It seemed like forever before he came down from his orgasm, and then Dean collapsed in a sated, sweaty heap as he waited out Zep’s knot so that he could run to the shower.

Zep barked again, tail wagging wildly, and looked around when Dean looked over his shoulder, his ears standing straight up, tongue lolling out to one side of his mouth.

A stupid, dopey grin spread over Dean’s face. “Idiot,” he said affectionately.


End file.
